


We Never Thought

by lisabounce



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisabounce/pseuds/lisabounce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And things aren't what they thought they'd be when they were children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Never Thought

Kel sighed and rested her head on the table in front of her, pillowing it on her folded arms. She straightened a moment later and glanced apologetically at Neal, sitting quietly on the other side of the table and tugged her tunic off. She stood, wearing just her shirt and hung it carefully in front of the small, smouldering fire in the (damp, leaky) hut she was billeted in. It steamed slightly and Kel knew, from past experience that it, like her breeches, cloak, boots and every pair of socks she owned, would still be caught somewhere around the sopping wet mark come morning. She missed Tobe most when she couldn't get her socks dry and spared a prayer to the Black God. The floor of her hut was more mud than beaten earth these days and she'd spent the better part of three days ensuring that everyone had access to at worst tarpaulins and, at best, hammocks and tents. Word was they'd be digging in for a while, swamp and the Tyran delta to one side, hills to the other. Word was also that things were like to be fairly quiet this far south, with most of the action centred further north. But only most.

“Do you know how much it rains on the Tyran border in spring?” she asked quietly.

Neal nodded, saying “I'll look over the troops in the morning, to make sure they're handling it all okay.”

“Let me know if you find another _looby_ who thinks his rain cloak is good for gambling,” she muttered before straightening and pouring the wine and offering Neal a plate of only mildly damp bread and stew. “It's horse again, I'm afraid. The third squadron's remounts...” She didn't need to continue. Neal was the chief healer on this stretch of the border and they'd shipped most of what was left of third squadron east to him only five days ago.

“Will you be heading back to Corus for Roald's son's naming?” Neal asked. “It is his first son.”

She let her silence speak for itself. “I'm needed on the border. How are the children going?”

Neal grimaced. “I have the three healthiest children this side of the Divine Realms. My wife and I have done our duty to our families.” He sipped his wine, picked at his plate of horse.

“You haven't been home for more than half a day at a time since Matthias was born. Isn't he... two now?”

“Two and a half next week. I'm told he's talking now.” Neal gave a misty smile. “George has a man who sends me letters whenever he can. And he managed portraits again at Midwinter.” He scooped up another mouthful of stew, chewing quickly and staring into the fire. “I miss them, Kel. I'll buy Anders a pony at Midsummer. He'll be almost five and it's time he learns to ride.”

Kel leaned over the table and gripped his forearm in sympathy. “I'm sorry. I thought you would be able to work things out.”

“My lady Yukimi and I attend such functions as we are required to together and neither of us has yet shamed the other in public. My lady and her attendants dote upon our children. There are many who cannot say as much of their wives.” He swallowed the rest of his wine in a hurry.

Kel sighed. “I got a letter from Geoffrey's grandmother last week, explaining that her son has had a very sudden engagement to a goldsmith's oldest daughter and while she's very sorry about this...” She buried her head in her arms again. “He's the third suitor I've had that... I think Seaver still thinks being sent to Sarain on that diplomatic mission is my fault.” She stretched her feet out toward the meagre fire.

Moments later, she straightened and looked over at Neal. “It's late. You'd better stay here tonight. It's too wet for you to ride back.”

“Your honour...”

“I haven't had any honour in most men's minds since I first rode out with the King's Own. You know that.” Kel stood, toes squelching slightly in the mud of her hut's floor and opened one of her packs, fishing out her hammock. “I've a couple of spare blankets over there,” she said, hanging one end of the hammock and stepping around the table and two small stools flanking it, to hang the other side while Neal draped the blankets over it.

He reached out and caught her in a hug. Once, she'd fitted neatly in his arms. Now, she was only slightly shorter. Kel rested her head on his shoulder for a moment and gave a bitter bark of laughter.

“Good night, Neal,” Kel murmured]], pulling away from him and sitting on the side of her cot. She scrubbed her feet as clean of mud as she could manage as Neal stripped down to his shirt, hanging his own outer clothes to dry before crawling into his own hammock.

“Good night, Kel.”


End file.
